


Equinox by Equinox

by heartswells



Series: In Sickness and In Health [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Communication, Eating Disorder Recovery, Eating Disorders, Honesty, Hope, Love, M/M, Openness, Recovery, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartswells/pseuds/heartswells
Summary: [this fic discusses recovering from an eating disorder; it does NOT contain triggering details about behaviors/food/numbers/etc.]“You know, silence will hold you hostage, Tys. You’ll relapse if you reject a support system.” Tyson didn’t know where Erik had learned that wisdom, but he knew the truth of it. He was rejecting the most fundamental aspect of recovery: connection.
Relationships: Tyson Barrie/Gabriel Landeskog
Series: In Sickness and In Health [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514081
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Equinox by Equinox

**Author's Note:**

> **content warning:** eating disorders are spoken about in the context of healing and recovery (with no triggering details of behaviors/food/numbers/etc)

A breeze drifted through the open windows and carried the crisp sweetness of autumn into the den. Tyson sighed as it drifted over him, ruffling his curls and kissing his skin. He unfurled the throw blanket that he had knitted for the couch, and Erik rolled his eyes as Tyson wrapped it around both of them. Pregame announcers chattered on the television while he and Erik waited for the first game of the Broncos’ season to begin. Combined with the warm familiarity of Erik breathing beside him, he felt lulled, and he sat peacefully. Tyson had almost fallen asleep when a loud chime returned him to the present, and he yawned as he reached for his phone.

  
  


“Gabe says that he’s running late and probably won’t be home until dinner.” Tyson scrunched his face up in worry; Gabe was overworking himself. 

  
  


Erik nodded and took a swig of his cider before setting the bottle on the coffee table with a suspicious amount of purpose. 

  
  


“Speaking of Gabe, why has he been asking _me_ if _you_ are alright lately?” Erik asked. 

  
  


Tyson balked and clenched his jaw as emotions both hot and cold flared within him. That Gabe, his _partner_ , was going behind his back to ask a mutual friend for information about him, infuriated him, but it also filled him with shame because underneath his sense of anger and betrayal was the understanding that Gabe would only do so if Tyson had forced him to. So adamantly had Tyson rejected and devalued Gabe’s worry, that Gabe had felt he had no other choice than to seek comfort from someone else, and that weighed on Tyson hideously. Anger though, is easier to embrace and express than shame, so Tyson lashed out instead.

  
  


“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him why he does what he does,” Tyson snapped. It was a transparent reaction: defensive, ugly, and unwarranted.

  
  


“I think you do know why,” Erik challenged. “But if you’d like my guess, then I’m happy to give it to you.”

  
  


Tyson tended to feel attacked when Erik breached delicate subjects with him. Erik was blunt and relentless, and though his feedback was genuine and empathetic, it was rarely presented in a soft or forgiving manner. For Erik’s part, he felt that he had no other option than to be antagonistic. Time had taught him that the only way to pierce Tyson’s stubborn silence was to provoke him into an explosion. 

  
  


“I’m not interested in your guess.” What Erik knew, or thought he knew, Tyson did not know, but he was sure that he would not be pleased by anything Erik had to offer.

  
  


“You need to learn to talk to him,” Erik said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the sofa to level Tyson an unimpressed stare. 

  
  


“I talk to him everyday,” Tyson countered witlessly.

  
  


“He’s worried about you, Tyson. You’re really just going to leave him to worry like that?” 

  
  


“It’s none of your business,” Tyson snapped, focusing on fueling his own anger so that he would not have to reckon with the emotions Erik’s words were evoking. 

  
  


“I’ve known you a long time, Tyson, and I care about you, so I think it _is_ my business whether or not you’re okay, and I think it’s Gabe’s business too.”

  
  


Erik and Tyson had shared much of their childhood together. Erik had known Tyson in his innocence, he had watched Tyson descend into his disorder, and he had also watched him heal. For much of it, Erik had been too young and too naive to fully comprehend the gravity of Tyson’s struggles, but watching Tyson had been essential to shaping who Erik became, because as formative as it is to struggle yourself, it is also formative to watch a loved one struggle and realize for the first time the depth of your own powerlessness. 

  
  


Life is not experienced alone. Inevitably, it is shared. As much as one may want to own their life in entirety, it is not possible; we are embedded in one another. To live is to give. 

  
  


Tyson gave himself to every person who loved him, and every person who loved him gave themselves to him. Loving Gabe, loving Erik, loving anyone, meant that he was promising to share himself with them. In order to love authentically, openly, and wholly, he had to allow himself to be seen fully, raw and vulnerable. He had to trust the people around him to treat him as a whole and to not reduce him to damnable pieces. He had to trust the ones that he loved to see his eating disorder, and say _I love Tyson wholly for the conglomeration of all that he is. No singular component makes him lovable or unlovable—his eating disorder is but one spark in his constellation. It does not make him good or bad, worthy or unworthy. It simply makes him Tyson, and I will love that part of him as I love all of him._

  
  


“I think you’re taking advantage of Gabe’s politeness,” Erik said. 

  
  


It sounded harsh, though Erik didn't mean it harshly. He did not believe that Tyson’s actions were out of malice but simply out of ease. Gabe did not push Tyson or dare towards anything near provocation. Gabe respected boundaries to the extent of creating nonexistent ones, so afraid of breaching unwanted territory, that he didn’t bother to explore the entire expanse of what was open and welcoming. Gabe was all gentle mannerisms and patience, believing that when Tyson was ready, he would come to him. But Tyson was accustomed to hotheaded, invasive people like Erik and his father who barreled through walls and blockades like canons, and he was reliant on them, suspended in the belief that if something were important enough, then someone would force their way in. In that way, Gabe and Tyson shared no common ground and both stagnated in their own feelings of insecurity and hurt. 

  
  


“What do you know?” Tyson scowled. Even if Erik had not meant it aggressively, the connotation of his words were hurtful.

  
  


“Why are you so unwilling to talk to him, Tyson? He cares about you.” Erik didn’t understand Tyson’s rationale. Few people loved as steadfastly and loyally as Gabe. It seemed to Erik that Gabe had done everything right to earn Tyson’s openness and honesty, and he couldn’t understand how Tyson had found fault in him. 

  
  


“What do you want me to say?” Tyson was frustrated and exasperated, and he didn’t know what Erik was expecting of him. He felt ashamed because he knew Erik was right, and he felt scared because he didn’t know how to confront himself.

  
  


“Whatever it is that you need to say,” Erik answered with uncharacteristic earnestness. 

  
  


Tyson wanted to retort that what he needed to do was kick Erik out of his house, but the part of him that valued the bravery of a friend who cared enough to criticize him stopped him. He breathed heavily and curled in on himself as if he had been yelling, suddenly feeling like he was going to cry. Erik waited patiently. 

  
  


“It’s hard,” Tyson whispered. 

  
  


“I believe that,” Erik validated so awkwardly that Tyson almost snorted. “But you know something being hard isn’t a good enough reason not to do it.”

  
  


Tyson did know that. He never would have recovered if he had stopped doing things simply because they were difficult.

  
  


“You know, silence will hold you hostage, Tys. You’ll relapse if you reject a support system.” Tyson didn’t know where Erik had learned that wisdom, but he knew the truth of it. He was rejecting the most fundamental aspect of recovery: connection. 

  
  


Recovery could not happen without communication and connection because recovery is about kindling a desire to live, and life’s value is sustained by connection. Without it, he could not recover, because there would be nothing to recover for. 

  
  


“I just don’t know _how_. Where to begin, what to say. How to make it make sense.” Tyson had tried to talk about his struggles with Gabe a few times, but the words never came out right. It was tedious and painful and so much easier to do nothing at all. 

  
  


“I think Gabe can fill in the gaps,” Erik said, the same way that he was filling in the gaps for Tyson now.

  
  


Communication was not about flawless articulation or impeccable emotional expression. It was about the willingness to engage and to trust. It would not always happen perfectly, or even satisfactorily, but it would always happen with love. If Tyson offered to share the intimacy of his thoughts and his feelings, then it wasn’t the words itself that gave the moment value, rather it was the offering of vulnerability, the giving of himself, and the experience of being received. It didn’t matter if what he said was perfectly understood; it mattered if it was wholly _felt_.

  
  


“I’m afraid. I don’t want Gabe’s opinion of me to change.” Eating disorders were difficult things to talk about. They were laden with stigma and villainous preconceptions about what they were, who they affected, and the purpose they served. Tyson had heavily internalized the disdain that had been directed towards him for having one. He was afraid that Gabe would invalidate and insult his experience, and if it came from Gabe, the person he loved most in the world, then Tyson wasn’t sure that he would be able to bear it, and it felt like too much of a risk to take.

  
“I think Gabe deserves more of your trust than that.” 

  
  


Tyon could not argue that.

  
  


“I just want this all to be over, Erik. I don’t want to bring my eating disorder into this relationship. I want to be free and unaffected.”

  
  


Tyson wanted something untainted, something innocent. He did not want to allow his eating disorder to force its way into everything he loved and to stake a claim on everything he tried to have. He wanted an escape from reality, a haven in Gabe’s engineered ignorance. 

  
  


“I think this is how you get free, Tyson,” Erik said gently. He could empathize with Tyson, imagine how painful it must be to have something so painful be so inseparable. “I’ve seen you struggle, Tys. But I’ve also seen you grow, and I admire that. I think Gabe will too. You aren’t over it, Tyson. This isn’t _who_ you are, but it is a part of you that you can’t run away from. Let Gabe in.”

  
  


Tyson nodded quietly, leaning over and resting his head on Erik’s shoulder.

  
  


“How?” He asked. 

  
  


“I don’t know. I’m not a therapist,” Erik quipped with a grin. 

  
  


“No shit,” Tyson snorted. Then he sighed. “I’ll work on it.”

  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This fic was first drafted eleven months ago; from one equinox to the next, I've changed as much as I haven't. I'm in a better headspace now though, a lot better.
> 
> This series is very close to my heart. It's brought me so much comfort, given me a haven of hope. And meeting others in recovery in the comments has brought me such a sense of community. My comments are always open to suggestions, for characters, recovery themes, relationships, whatever. I can’t guarantee that I’ll write them, but I will always keep them in mind.
> 
> My heart is always open to you all. You're always welcome to connect with me on [braydenonpoint](http://www.braydenonpoint.tumblr.com) or discord at patricia#3087. I really, really would love to befriend any of you. and as always, your feedback means the world to me. — P xoxo 


End file.
